According to Plan
by criminalxxxmindsxxxfreak
Summary: A very special inmate at Arkham Asylum has agreed to do a custodial interview with the BAU... But are Reid and Morgan really prepared to meet the Clown Prince of Crime? Oneshot.


**Title: **According to Plan

**Rating: **T

**Pairings: **None

**A/N: **So… This is something that I simply had to write because I couldn't stop thinking about it. It's set a few months after the end of "The Dark Knight" and maybe somewhere in season 7 for Criminal Minds. Timing for CM isn't really all that important here, just know that Reid and Morgan are going to talk to The Joker. Just a custodial interview. That they will never forget. Ever.

Opinions are much loved! Please review!

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><p><strong>According to Plan<strong>

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><p>FBI Behavioral Analysts Derek Morgan and Dr. Spencer Reid were quiet as they navigated the crowded streets of Gotham City in the FBI issued black SUV. They'd gotten the call a few days ago that a very special "patient" at Arkham Asylum had agreed to do a custodial interview. It was something that the BAU did on a regular basis, but they'd never interviewed anyone quite like the man they were about to talk to.<p>

Reid looked somewhat nervous as he read over the case file in his lap, eyes moving down the page rapidly, not even looking up when they pulled into the vast parking lot outside of the facility. Morgan glanced at his young companion as he pulled the keys out of the ignition.

"C'mon, Kid, let's go," he said, pulling him out of his thoughts. The older agent smiled slightly when Reid looked up, a slightly bewildered look on his face, and frowned.

He paused for a moment, "What do you think he wants to say?" he asked, slipping the folder into his satchel and unbuckling his seatbelt.

Morgan shrugged, "What do they all want to say, Reid?" he asked, "He's just another killer in a long list of killers. No different than any of the others."

Reid shook his head, looking unconvinced, "I don't know, Morgan, have you _read _the case file? This guy's different,"

Morgan shook his head, looking unperturbed, "Nah, Reid, he's just another psycho. We deal with 'em all the time,"

Reid remained unconvinced. He had read the case file. He'd seen the video that the man calling himself "The Joker" had made and sent to the GCN network. He'd read every interview the man had done so far, seen all the crime scene photos (the scenes that were still intact, that is. The Joker had a habit of blowing things up once he was finished). He'd left a path of destruction in his wake wherever he went and there was no way a man who could terrorize an entire city in such a dramatic way was anything like the garden variety psychos the BAU dealt with on a regular basis.

No, Reid knew that "The Joker" was going to be something far more complicated than that.

Arkham Asylum looked like something straight out of a horror movie and for one brief, irrational moment, Reid felt fear sweep over him as he and Morgan walked through the entrance. Not that anyone could really blame him. The asylum was exactly what one would expect of a place that housed the most mentally unstable minds of the most crime-riddled city in the world. The menacing gates out front, bearing the hospital's name, seemed like something that should be standing at the entrance to Hell.

Despite the fact that sun was shining, the sky over Arkham even seemed darker than the rest. Like a storm simply waiting to happen, a sense of impending doom washing over all who entered the doors.

However old and menacing the exterior looked, the inside was another story altogether as the agents made their way through the lobby. It was clean and modern, but completely sterile. White surrounded them dizzyingly. Nothing but white. White tile floors, white washed walls, white chairs. The only thing that broke up the monotony was the fiery red hair of the woman behind the imposing main desk, who looked up, spotted the flash of Morgan badge and without a word, nodded briefly, pressed a button somewhere on the underside of the desk and waved them through a set of thick, automatic doors.

The security was unrivaled. Reid seriously doubted even Alcatraz had had security like this…

Just like the entrance, everything was white. Orderlies dressed in pale blue uniforms, guards in black, stun-guns at their sides, serious looks in all their eyes. But that was the only color in the halls. This white, however, wasn't the same as the white in the lobby. This white was dirty, stained from years of use and lack of proper cleaning. They passed through a long row of thick, steel doors with small, barred windows allowing them a small, narrow view into the rooms beyond.

"You the FBI?" a guard asked, waiting for them at the first checkpoint, a set steel bars with a numeric-key lock. Morgan nodded, flashing his badge and the guard punched in a code, pushing the barred doors open, "This way." He led them down another set of wide, white halls, dotted with guards armed with more stun-guns and through two more checkpoints.

"You guys have really got this place locked tight," Morgan noted conversationally, keeping stride with the officer. The other man looked at him for a moment before turning his eyes forward again.

"Has to be," he said, "Can't afford a breakout from this place, not with the guys we've got locked up in maximum security."

Morgan couldn't help but agree. He might not have read the entire case file like Reid had, and he might not always keep up with the news when it didn't concern him or his job, but he knew what horrors Arkham hid and if even just one of their patients managed to make it to the outside world, all hell would surely break loose.

"Commissioner Gordon," the guard stopped abruptly, where a man was standing, waiting for them, outside of yet another steel door, this one belonging to an interrogation room, its small window not barred as the patients' rooms were.

The commissioner nodded briskly and the guard went back to his station without another word. "FBI?" he asked.

"BAU," Morgan answered, showing him his badge, "I'm Agent Morgan, this is Dr. Reid." He motioned to his young friend, who offered the Commissioner a small, soft smile and forced half-wave. The older man raised his brow, briefly wondering why the FBI would consider sending such an obviously timid young man to question someone who was, at least in his opinion, the most inhuman monster out there.

"Well," the Commissioner stepped aside from the door, "He's in there. Just a word of warning, Agents, this man is not your average psycho. Be careful, with The Joker things are never simple."

His words echoed those of the city's once famed, now infamous vigilante. His eyes shifted to the window in the door and darkened when he caught sight of the man inside. The man who had set about bringing such chaos and death… He'd lost count of the interrogations he'd sat across from that monster in. Always searching for answers that the clown would never provide. He'd already scared off two doctors and a third was on the verge of resignation. Most doctors in their right minds wouldn't have gone near the terrorist anyway.

"We can handle it, Commissioner," Morgan assured the older man, though he didn't miss the skeptical look Gordon had on his face as he nodded and turned, motioning to two guards posted outside of the room, "If there's a problem, press the alarm inside. It's beside the door."

His dark eyes met Morgan for the briefest of moment, "Keep your guard up, Agent."

Morgan still wasn't convinced that they had anything overly dangerous to worry about. They were in a secure mental facility surrounded by cops, guards, doctors and orderlies. What could one man do against all of that? Even one man who'd caused so much destruction was still just a man when deprived of his weapons and "henchmen". From what Morgan had read of the case file, this "Joker" character seemed like something straight out of a comic book or Saturday morning cartoon. Granted, he was a terrifying villain.

The guards beside the door motioned for them to step back as they punched in yet another numeric-code to open the door. They really were serious about their security here. The door opened inward and the two agents stepped inside, Reid trying to ignore the look of… almost pity… that the two men gave him.

The door shut ominously behind them and two BAU agents were left alone in a large, grey room – an oddly refreshing change from the daunting, dizzying white – with a madman.

He wasn't an overly large man, Reid noted with surprise. Of course, he'd seen pictures, both with the mask of war paint and without, but seeing him up close Reid realized he actually was only a bit larger than he was. At least in muscle mass. In height they must've been about the same, though the man slouched, hunched over just a bit in his seat.

His face was void of his trademark greasepaint smile and ugly scars stretched across his face, from each corner of his mouth, along his jaw and nearly reaching his ears. They were a darker color than the rest of the man's skin. The horrifying disfigurement stretched his face, permanently etching a sinister, terrible smile there. His dirty blond hair, hanging around his face, framing the signature grin, still held the faintest tinge of green, worn down and faded over the last few months of his imprisonment. And those eyes… they found the agents as soon as they entered and a smirk lit his horribly grotesque features.

Reid was surprised. He might have been a handsome man at one point in his life. If it weren't for the scars marring his face, he could've have been beautiful.

"Ah!" the man smacked his lips, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he grinned at them. "Visitors! I _love _visitors!"

Morgan raised a brow and approached the man, noticing immediately that he was chained down in nearly every way possible. His hands were shackled together, resting on top of the table with a chain hooking the cuffs to the underside of the table. His ankles were cuffed to the legs of his chair, another chain linking them together. They weren't taking any chances with this man. He didn't look physically imposing in any way, but there was something in those dark, smiling eyes that spoke volumes about all that he had done.

Reid followed behind the other man, lifting his satchel over his head and sitting it down beside the table, pulling out the case file and taking a deep breath. He might be a bit timid on occasion, but this was his job and he'd learned a long time ago that showing UnSubs that he was scared only made things worse. Instead, he channeled his fear and used it for other purposes.

He sat the file on the table and pulled out one of the chairs, sitting down directly across from the man calling himself The Joker. His long fingers tapped on the folder and he met the Joker's eyes, seeing fascination in their dark depths.

"And _who _are _you?_" the Joker asked, a small laugh bubbling up from his chest. He tilted his head curiously, smiling at the agents now in front of him.

"Dr. Spencer Reid," Reid introduced himself, speaking first this time. "And this is Derek Morgan. We're with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit."

"Ooh…" The Joker's smile turned into a grin, his yellow teeth flashing for a moment and he let out another laugh, this one lasting longer as his lips twitched on his face. "Be-_have-_ioral Analysis?" He raised a brow, "Are you gonna _analyze _my behavior, _Doctor?_"

Underneath the humor in the man's voice was a dark edge of malice that didn't go unnoticed by either of the agents.

"That is what we usually do," Morgan said, frowning at the man. He didn't take the second chair, preferring to stand up. "And we could study you for years."

"Oh," the Joker's grin became, if it were possible, even wider. "You flatter me, Derek… can I call you Derek?"

"No," Morgan's voice was hard as he narrowed his eyes at the terrorist. "It's Agent Morgan."

"Hmph," The Joker pouted and leaned back in his seat, shaking his head, "Why so serious, _Agent_?" he demanded, "Don't you know how to smile?"

Morgan's eyes remained narrowed as he frowned at the murderer. If there was one thing he hated it was a killer who so completely enjoyed the chaos and damage he'd caused that he saw it all as a joke. And this guy clearly took that notion to its extreme.

"What about you?" The Joker suddenly turned his attention back to Reid, his dark eyes wide and curious as he smiled at him, "Spencer…" he said his name slowly, as if testing the way it fit in his mouth.

"Spence-_y_," he grinned, putting extra emphasis on the 'y', dragging it out a bit as he stared, unblinkingly, at the young agent. "Mind if I call you Spencey?"

Reid forced himself not to react and shrugged, keeping his emotions guarded. They weren't going to get anywhere with him by giving him what he wanted and what he wanted was a reaction. "If you want, most people call me Reid,"

The Joker let out a deranged giggle, his chains rattling slightly as he did so. "Oh, I _like _you, Spencey," he laughed.

Reid didn't respond for a moment, taking a deep breath and looking down at the thick folder in front of him before looking back up. "What's your name?" he asked.

The question seemed to take the Joker off-guard. He blinked several times, frowning slightly before he leaned forward, "Kid, I gotta tell ya, if you don't know _my _name yet, you _reeeaaallly _shouldn't be here,"

Reid shook his head, "Not that name," he said, "I'm sure half the country has heard of 'The Joker',"

The man smirked, "Only _half?_ What's it take to get the _whole _country to know me? Do I have to blow up _two _hospitals?"

Reid remained silent for a moment, glancing up at Morgan, who looked slightly irritated and motioned for the younger man to continue. "I'm talking about your real name," Reid clarified. "The one you were born with. You're not in any of our systems. No fingerprints or DNA. So until now, you've never been arrested,"

The Joker smirked, "I'm very _slippery, _Spencey," he said, "It takes more than a couple of cops to get me in these chains." He lifted his hands as high as they would go, shaking the chains for emphasis and grinned, another giggle escaping his throat.

"That still doesn't answer his question," Morgan said, that dangerous undercurrent of irritation in his voice.

The Joker turned his dark eyes back up to Morgan, looking more than a little bit annoyed by his interruption. "Well, _Agent_," he spat the word with dangerous vehemence, "I don't think you gave me a chance, did you?"

Morgan eyed him distastefully, feeling an intense urge to hit the man. He wasn't sure why, it wasn't as if the Joker had done anything to him personally, but merely standing in his presence set the agent on edge for some reason.

Red cut in then, frowning at the scarred man, "Then what is your name?" he asked again, catching the Joker's eye once more.

He pondered the question for a moment before once again he was smiling broadly, "Oh, now, _Spencey_, I hardly know you. Wouldn't want to give my personal information out to just _any_one, now would I?" He laughed again, this laugh closer to a barked chortle than a giggle.

Reid didn't back down, "You know my name," he said calmly, "It only seems fair that I know yours."

The Joker laughed again, seemingly unable to control the tides of laughter that were practically bubbling from within him. After a moment, the maniacal noise faded away and he composed himself as best he could, leaning forward as far as possible and lowering his voice dramatically so that Morgan had to strain his ears to hear.

"That a _very _good point, _Spencey,_" he said, "But y'see, telling you who I _used _to be doesn't seem all that relevant to who I am." He grinned and Reid stared at the scarred face, now closer than it had previously been.

From this close, Reid could see the jagged line of his unnatural smile and the greasy thickness of his hair. The Joker's eyes were wide and insistent as he grinned, the scars around his mouth bending and twisting oddly with the motion, "But! But…" he chuckled to himself as if he were holding onto a particularly hilarious joke. "If your…_serious _little friend there, Derek," he leaned closer, his voice lowering even more, whispering conspiratorially to the young doctor, "If _he _leaves, I'll tell you a secret. A great, big, HUGE, secret."

He grinned again, leaning back and Morgan glared at him. Reid was silent for a moment, thinking about what the Joker had said. It was seriously doubtful that he'd actually reveal anything about himself at all, but he _must _have had a reason for agreeing to do the interview. Then again, perhaps he'd just gotten bored. Maybe he wanted to remind the world that he was still here… Either way, any chance to glean any information about exactly who the Joker really was, was something to be taken very seriously indeed.

The young agent looked up at his partner, "Morgan," he said, turning his eyes back to stare at the grinning, mutilated face before him, "Give me a minute."

"WHAT?" Morgan stared at Reid, not bothering to hide his surprise at the other agent. "Reid, there is no way that I'm leaving you alone with this crazy –"

"I am _not_ crazy. Not _crazy,_" The Joker said defensively, glowering at Derek. "I'm not."

Reid glanced at Morgan and then back at the Joker. "Ten minutes," Reid said, looking up at Morgan again, "Give me ten minutes."

Morgan frowned and glanced toward the glass mirror that reflected their images. On the other side of that glass, he would almost bet Commissioner Gordon was watching the interview. He looked back down at Reid and nodded finally, "Ten minutes, Kid. And not a second more…" he looked back at the clown and narrowed his eyes, that overwhelming urge to hit him making him clench his fists tightly, "I'll be watching."

The Joker giggled again, "Oh, I'll just bet you will be, Derek," he teased as the dark skinned agent left the room, tapping on the door to alert the guards. As soon as they were alone again the Joker leaned forward again, eyeing Reid with the same intensity as before.

"Now…" he said, drawing out the word and smacking his lips together again, his tongue darting out of his mouth to run along his lips and trace his scars. "We're all a_lone_, Spence-_y_."

Reid raised a brow and watched the other man cautiously. He wasn't stupid enough to think the Joker wouldn't try something, but exactly what that something might be, Reid had no idea. "And you were going to tell me something," he reminded him.

The Joker's grin stretched wider across his face, "I was," he nodded, scooting his chair closer, the legs scraping against the concrete floor. "And it's a big secret, Spencey, _big. _The biggest, hugest secret." He flashed his yellow teeth again and met Reid's eyes, licking his lips when he noticed a small, barely suppressed shiver.

"…But first… Do you wanna hear a story, Spencey? Hmm? Do you?" The Joker's eyes danced and Reid reminded himself to remain calm. Reaction was what he was looking for and Reid didn't want to give that to him.

"Depends on the story," Reid said slowly, cautiously watching the clown's face. Even without his face paint, the Joker somehow managed to exude his creepy nature. Reid figured the scars probably helped at least a little.

The Joker's lips twitched again, his eyes staring intensely into Reid's hazel ones. There was something unhinged in the Joker's eyes, something that seemed to go beyond simple madness. Reid knew, looking into the man's eyes, that this man was far more complicated than a simple psychotic killer. There was something more to him.

"Oh, it's a _de-_light-_ful _story," the Joker assured him, smacking his lips lightly as he spoke, "And it starts right here… well, relatively speaking. In Gotham City."

He laughed, that manic chuckle sending a shiver down Reid's spine. He fought to hide the effect from the Joker, instead watching him intently, wondering what he could possibly find so funny. Then again, if reading the case file was any indication of the Joker's sense of humor, maybe Reid didn't want to know.

Reid remained silent, listening attentively and the Joker let out another laugh, "Now Gotham… they've got a lot of _crime. _All those mob-bosses using their _money _to get the city in a, uh, _choke_hold," the Joker began, his grin never slipping even as his eyes became more and more erratic. "It was soooo predictable."

The Joker made a face and Reid eyed him curiously as he leaned so close his long hair nearly brushed the tabletop, "Do you know what I mean, Spencey?" he asked, his tone mockingly serious, "All that _boring_ predictability. Criminals and their _money_ or their _power_," he shook his head, abruptly leaning up, "It's pitiful."

Then his eyes got wide and round and his yellow teeth gnashed again as another attack of peeling laughter afflicted him. "And the cops… Oh those brave boys in blue," the Joker grinned wider again, barely recovered from his fit, still a little breathless, "They followed the _system_. Do you know the system, Spencey? All those little rules?"

When he paused Reid realized he wanted an answer and slowly the young agent nodded. Of course he knew the rules. And they were there for a reason. Yet something in him was just the slightest bit stirred by the way the Joker was telling this 'story'.

The madman grinned again, a small giggle escaping before he was once again strangely serious, yet not serious at all. "They followed their little rules, running around the city and the criminals just kept on going… Right on through the night," His grin nearly split his face and his dark eyes sparkled, "But then, _then _something happened… And suddenly, this sad, dark little city had a "protector". Then those pathetic criminals started to _fear_ the dark…"

He paused again, dramatically, eyes locked with Reid's before he leaned closer again, "Do you know what I'm talking about, Spencey?"

This time Reid knew the clown wanted an answer and he nodded slightly, "The Batman," he said simply. Of course it was. The city's infamous "Dark Knight" vigilante had his own file at the BAU. Since Gotham had never invited them in on the case, they only had sparse information at best, but it wasn't like they didn't watch the news.

The Joker laughed again, nodded vigorously, "Batman!" he said excitedly, "Batman… He, _he _turned this city's criminals upside down and tore down their … empires!" He gestured emphatically with his hands. Or, rather, he tried to. Chained as they were, his hands did little more than lift into the air briefly, clanking the chains.

He was silent for such a long time that Reid almost thought he'd finished his story until suddenly, he burst back into speech, animatedly, laughing somewhat breathlessly before catching himself and continuing. "And _that _is where I come in, Spencey! That's who I am… All that boring predictability, well, after a while it just gets _old._ And poor old Batsy, that lonely Knight, he didn't have _anyone _to challenge him," Another wide, terrifying grin and the Joker leaned closer.

"I decided to introduce a little _anarchy_," he said, his voice once again low, as if he were sharing a deep, dark secret. "A little… _chaos. _Because that's who. I. am." He tilted his head, smiling, "I'm an Agent of Chaos."

He leaned back in his seat, laughing gently, giggles bursting forth every now and then, and used his chained hands to wipe a few stray tears from his eyes, shaking his head as he stared at the young FBI agent.

"What d'ya think of _that _story, Spencey?" he asked.

Reid remained unresponsive for a minute, simply staring at the clown, the former terrorist who now spent his days locked in a padded cell. The only thing he could truly think to say, however, was probably the last thing Derek Morgan or Commissioner Gordon expected to hear as they listened on the other side of the two-way mirror.

"I think…" Reid said slowly, meeting the Joker's eyes, "That you are absolutely right."

The Joker grinned, leaning in very close, "I knew I liked you,"

Reid ignored the comment, however, and continued. "You are definitely not crazy,"

The Joker blinked and then burst into yet another fit of laughter before composing himself, shaking his head, "That's what I've been trying to tell these people!" He once again lifted his hands, jerkily motioning toward the mirror and making a face at it.

"A crazy person wouldn't be able to organize their thoughts, to have any real _purpose _for what they're doing and you clearly do," Reid continued, watching him carefully, "You have a plan."

The Joker smiled, shaking his head, "Oh, Spencey," he chuckled, "Do I really _look _like a guy with a plan?"

Reid simply shrugged, staring at him. "Yes. You're plan is chaos," he stated, "And whether you like it or not, that's true."

"But that… that is a _paradox, _Spencey!" The Joker argued, grinning widely, "I just _do _things. I want something, I take it. I decided to do something, and I _do_. I don't think about silly things like consequences. _I'm _not a schemer."

Reid smiled, looking down at the file in front of him, still closed. Not that he'd ever needed it. He'd memorized every word as soon as he'd read. The file was, as was often the case, solely for the Joker's benefit. So that he knew that Reid knew about him. The young man's long fingers tapped on the folder thoughtfully.

"This is proof, Joker," he said, meeting the man's dark eyes once again, "That you are a schemer. This entire folder, this list of your crimes, of the things you've done… To most people, it might seem completely unconnected and disjointed, but not to me. _You_ knew what you were doing. Yes, you are incredibly unpredictable, even _I _couldn't say what you're next move would be, but that doesn't change the fact that in your head, there's a process, a _plan_."

The young doctor stood, slipping the folder into his satchel once more, smiling for the first time since he'd entered the interrogation room. As he looked back up at the Joker, he saw that his wide grin was still in place, his eyes untroubled as he studied him, though Reid realized this was probably the longest he'd been silent. Either because he was thinking or because he had been made speechless, Reid couldn't really say.

"Agent Morgan and I will probably be back tomorrow," Reid said, once again catching the Joker's eyes. "And we _will _find out who you are," he assured him, "It's only a matter of time."

The Joker laughed, shaking his head, "Oh, Spencey," he said again, as if he were a parent admonishing his child, "You and I will have _such _fun… I really, really like you!"

Reid left the interrogation room, trying once more to not let the shiver that passed over his spine show as the Joker's laughter trailed loudly after him. As Morgan had said, he was just another criminal. And while in many senses this wasn't entirely true, at least Reid knew one thing from talking to the Joker… There was definitely a story to tell. And Reid would get that story out of him one day. He knew he would.

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><p><strong>Fin<strong>

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><p><strong>AN: **Well that was certainly much longer than I ever expected this to be. It was SUPPOSED to be a short little fic. Only a couple hundred words. And look at what it turned into. Ah well. That's what happens when you put the Joker and Spencer Reid in a room together :D

Please, please review! First time writing the Joker and I'm seriously nervous about it! I hope he wasn't out-of-character! Let me know!

***Also, if anyone is interested, the sequel/follow up I considered writing for this is posted. "Everything Burns" is the title. It's a fairly dark story (or heading that way, at least) and from what I can gauge so far, it'll be fairly lengthy as well. The Joker DID have a reason for agreeing to this little interview and also a much bigger plan as well, for the rest of Gotham and (eventually) Reid. Check it out if you're interested.***


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